My wrists hurt, my hands are numb
I look down reaching for my suffering
I examine, looking at each carefully
Feeling it's pain with my other hand
I search for the ropes that tie them
Nothing exists
The skin tingles and pulsates beneath my fingertips
How can this feel so real?
Screaming and choking
I search my neck
Pulling and tugging at it
I need to release his hands that are killing me
I search
Nothing exists
His grip so tight around me..
How can this feel so real?
I lay curled up on the floor, gasping for air
Crying uncontrollably, unable to move
I am being torn in two
Its an invisible rape.
I am alone, I am safe
Yet...i feel so small and defenseless
His weight crushes me, I cant breath
He isn't here
He doesn't exist anymore
My body is shattered into a million pieces
How can this feel so real?
I lay motionless
The world spins around me.
I am dead now
There is no pain where the dead reside.
There they have butterflies, rainbows and laughter.
I want to join them. I run to the dead ones.
They welcome me with open arms
I let go
This doesn't exist
My body is not ruined and broken anymore
I wake up
This is a diary about me, about my life, and about the abuse that I suffered. I write not for pity or attention. I write to find my voice and shed light on issues that are too often kept locked away in darkness, deep in the minds of their victims. I have held my secrets for too long, so I share them with you now, both friends and strangers so I can ease some of the weight that i carry on these shoulders.
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- Operation Be A Kid Again (the forever continuing list)
- Writings That Mean A Lot
- Writting exercises
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- Websites and reading material
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Wow! This is so powerful... It's a beautifully written poem I feel like all survivors can truly identify with this! Thank you for sharing so much of you and being so real and vulernable!
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